


Even His Name Is A Lie

by kibasniper



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different Mastermind (Dangan Ronpa), Betrayal, Blood and Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Execution, M/M, Mastermind K1-B0, Mastermind Kiibo, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 09:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14494386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibasniper/pseuds/kibasniper
Summary: Kiibo was created to weave the most despair-inducing killing game for the fifty-third season of Danganronpa. Getting close with Saihara was just part of the plan.





	Even His Name Is A Lie

Hope was a sensation of expecting something to happen with absolute certainty. That feeling sparked wars and chaos, forcing two sides to battle for their hopes to be justly proven. Every time one hope was born, so was another, and in the eyes of that first hope, the other hope was unequivocally despair. It was natural to theorize that even with a great hope, an absolute despair will follow and needed to be destroyed at all costs.

At least, that was the moral in the finale of the Hope’s Peak arc. The hopeful side of Naegi and the Future Foundation battling the war started by Enoshima and the Remnants of Despair. Both sides asserted their twisted ideologies as righteous. Enoshima hoped for despair while Naegi hoped to end despair like a mercurial cycle. No gray area existed in their battle.

Considering his creators wanted to emulate the franchise’s initial arc, Kiibo had been created with those notions in mind. He watched, absorbed, and downloaded every thesis on hope and despair created by the Hope’s Peak saga, listening to maddening proclamations about how hope was absolutely pious while despair was a ceaseless evil, which only talented people could kill. Any normal person was a mindless sheep flocking with the hopeful masses to worship the talented.

That was the outside world, a planet of sheep demanding entertainment in the form of chaotic trials, gruesome murders, and twisted characters who fought for white hope and black despair. Characters of white despair and black hope were met with absolute adoration and worship until their timely death in the story as they committed atrocities for the sake of their malicious beliefs.

That was his given purpose. Becoming white despair and then black hope by acting as the protagonist, sprinkling in pieces of despair only to emerge as black hope as the mastermind, showing the audience how wrong they were to follow him. An about-face mastermind, his creators said, would have caused an immense stir. The Naegi-esque robot turning out to be an Enoshima-esque mastermind? All while clamoring for hope during the killing game?

It was wonderfully despair-inducing. Evoking hope and then tearing it down all for the sake of despair, watching the survivors writhe in place while he revealed his status as the true mastermind sent coursing, electrical delight throughout his processor to the tips of his fingers. It would launch the entire world in a hopeless frenzy, and Kiibo remembered grinning to himself. He wanted to herd all of those sheeps to the beat of Team Danganronpa’s drum.

When the time for killing game began, Kiibo was told there would be a secondary protagonist. The boy was a lamb waiting for a slaughter, someone who showed such little confidence in himself even during his audition tape. By the name of Shuichi Saihara, he would be the other hope of the story, the one Kiibo would have to drag into the darkest depths of despair.

Bond with him, he remembered his superiors ordering during an official photoshoot to promote the killing game, in order to make him trust you. Then, you can tear him down, and show off the biggest lie in the world.

It would take time to cultivate that wonderful despair. He needed to worm his way into Saihara’s heart, hold his hand tightly and promise they would defeat the mastermind together. Showering Saihara with sweet, hopeful words and decorating him with trust only to shove him over edge would give the viewers the most despairing ending. A protagonist betraying another protagonist was the perfect culmination of a lie.

As the killing game started with the world watching through his eyes, Kiibo wanted everyone to truly know Saihara, the weakest, most wretched Super High School Level Detective. He was a shell of Kyouko Kirigiri, an absolutely useless young man without any shred of self-confidence, and Kiibo loved it. Watching Saihara brighten with the slightest compliment, the gentlest of touches to Saihara’s back, forearms, and palms, enticed the world and himself. He really was as pathetic as his audition tape made him out to be.

Akamatsu’s death was the electricity needed to jumpstart Saihara’s development and their relationship. She left her hope with Saihara, and Kiibo needed to harness it. With the scenario created by Team Danganronpa, Kiibo sought Saihara to bolster him and put him on a pedestal for the world to enjoy his forced growth.

Training with Momota and Harukawa in the late hours of the night, assisting him during investigations to uncover the lying culprit, and watching him become into a true Danganronpa protagonist was Kiibo’s role in forming Saihara’s character development. Hesitant, yet with enough confidence to expose the killer. Cautious, but with enough kindness to joke, play, and love. Pressing forward with hope in his heart to continue on in Akamatsu’s shoes and guide everyone towards the treasured happy ending. Saihara was utterly malleable to the will of the killing game.

Kiibo remembered one night in particular as he continued to destroy the Academy, which was according to the scenario. As Kiibo fired another beam towards one of the Exisal, his thoughts drifted towards that night. The warmth of Saihara’s hand pressing against his cold palm was enough to send chills up his spine. The earnest confidence in Saihara’s voice, showcasing his growth, as he promised they would escape together echoed in Kiibo’s head.

“We’ll leave here together, Kiibo-kun. It’s been a long road, hasn’t it? Still, we’ll overcome the mastermind…” Saihara had squeezed Kiibo’s hand, and Kiibo watched his face illuminate under the heavenly moonlight. “...together.”

The world watched and cheered, and inside, Kiibo laughed. If only everyone knew the truth. The truth that would eventually tear them all down and drag Saihara with them, forcing him to grasp the falling dirt to keep him from suffocating as the world collapsed underneath him.

As the elevator plummeted towards their striking ground, Kiibo felt Saihara nestle against him. Pale, long fingers gripped Kiibo’s shoulder. The bright fire in Saihara’s eyes burned the world and his own modified heart. A single nod was all Kiibo needed to know he had Saihara within the palm of his head.

The final trial was the same as the rest. Find the flaws. Discriminate and repudiate the given evidence with all eyes on him. Hear the voices of the outside scream in his head over which way to take the trial and pulse like hundreds of cymbals clashing together. Differing opinions and scrum debates in search of the single truth.

None of that mattered. The cyclical trial, which mimicked so many before it, had been all part of Kiibo’s scenario as they honed in on Shirogane, the only one without a proper alibi. The way she squeaked and flailed, desperately trying to conjure any fathomable excuse for why she would have needed to use the restroom during the time of Amami’s murder brought thrills to the audience as expected.

“You’ve got that wrong! Shirogane-san, like we’ve been saying, you have no proper alibi,” Kiibo announced, shooting his finger out to point at her. “If you can’t give us an explanation for what you were doing during those precious minutes, than we have no choice but to believe you’re the killer!”

“I-I really didn’t do it! All I did was use the restroom! It’s bad timing!” Shirogane cried, clutching her chest. Sweat trickled down her cheeks. Her glasses fogged. She swiftly removed them and brushed them against her shirt.

As Shirogane shifted the glasses on her face, Yumeno shouted,” “That’s strange! It’s too big of a coincidence!”

“C-coincidence or not, it’s the truth!”

“Shirogane,” Harukawa spat, “give it up. You’re the killer.”

“N-no! No!’ Shirogane had never looked paler. She took in quick, heaving breaths, desperately glancing around to anyone who would believe her. Catching Saihara’s quiet stare, she blurted, “P-please, I really was just using the bathroom! I didn’t know that door was there!”

“It’s suspicious,” Saihara said, closing his eyes, and Kiibo inspected his face, withholding his tempted grin, “but Shirogane-san, there is the possibility that you are innocent. Of course, the timing is very close. You would’ve had to rush down those steps, avoid the timed camera intervals, and then crush open Amami-kun’s head with your own shot put ball.”

“Wh-what? Saihara-kun, all of the evidence points to her!” Kiibo shouted, gripping the sides of his podium.

“I know,” Saihara said, “which is why I’m going to investigate every angle of this case. We know Akamatsu-san is innocent, and she died. That’s why I want to give Shirogane-san the same benefit to make sure we don’t fall for that trap once again.”

Shirogane broke into a wide grin. “Oh, oh, thank you!”

Kiibo frowned, digging his fingers into his palms. “I see, but like we’ve been saying, the timing is too close, and she went into the bathroom with that secret passageway to the crime scene.”

“And she said that she was only in there for a few minutes. In that time, she absolutely could’ve killed Amami,” Harukawa added, crossing her arms. “If she’s the mastermind, she’d be able to avoid the intervals and kill Amami. It’s too suspicious, Saihara.”

“It’s gotta be her! There’s no other way!” Yumeno shouted, shaking her fists.

Their overbearing voices shot into Shirogane like bullets, each with enough power to make her stumble. Shirogane gasped and shook her head, gripping her thin hair so tightly that Kiibo thought she would have torn them out, roots and all. Kiibo closed in on her face, which was gasping for air like a dying fish and sputtering for belief. She was a despairing portrait, the image before the calamity.

“Shirogane-san,” Saihara started, a hardness to his voice, “please explain yourself. Can you prove your innocence or refute any of our claims? If you don’t...”

Shirogane bit her lip as Saihara trailed off. She clasped her hands, and her fingers writhed, gestures which Kiibo observed and sent to the world. The world roared for her, demanding her imminent execution, and Kiibo chuckled under his breath, a detail that went unnoticed by Saihara but not by the world.

“I-I can’t. There’s no evidence, b-but-but I didn’t kill anyone. It was bad timing!”

“Stop wasting your breath,” Harukawa snapped, startling Shirogane. “We’re settled here.”

“That’s-!”

“You murderer! You tried to play up your innocent act, but we’ve seen right through you!” Yumeno shouted, fixing her hat over her eyes. “I can’t believe we believed in a monster like you. A monster like you was right under our noses this entire time.”

“I’m not-!”

“Saihara-kun,” Kiibo interjected, flashing a stern glower in Saihara’s direction while the world’s murmurs ruminated in his head, “is that enough proof for you?”

Saihara pensively returned Kiibo’s look. Shirogane’s blubbering meshed with Yumeno’s accusations. Harukawa’s threats faded into the back of his mind. He glanced over to Monokuma, watching him chuckle behind his paws as the shuddering Monotaro and Monofunny quaked.

He ran the crime scene through his mind once again. He had already proven Akamatsu was set up regardless of her own murder attempt. No fibers existed on the killing shot put ball. All the other alibis were secured including alibis for the deceased. Someone avoided the cameras because they knew about the intervals.

Shirogane went to the bathroom with the hidden passageway for a few minutes. It was impossible for her to disguise herself as anyone else because she would break out in a rash. She never appeared on the cameras, but it was possible for her to kill Amami during the allotted time period.

“Shirogane-san, I can’t think of anyone else who could’ve killed Amami-kun,” Saihara proclaimed, and Kiibo’s grin stretched into his cheeks, his bangs casting a shadow across his face.

“N-no! No, please! It wasn’t me! I-I’m being framed like Akamatsu-san, I swear!” Shirogane cried, leaning forward and digging her nails into the edge of her podium.

“Here’s how the case went down!” Saihara announced, and Kiibo listened to every word that dripped out of his mouth.

Every accusatory word stabbed into Shirogane. Each description of her alleged actions, how she wormed her way behind Amami to strike him and spill his blood all over the floor and pretended to find the body with the others was recorded and sent across the globe. Kiibo patiently listened, allowing Saihara the honor of the final class trial’s closing remarks. The strength in his words formed bullets and struck Shirogane, who could only gawk and sputter in return. It was the perfect ending for a mistrial.

Voting arrived, and Kiibo gently pressed the button for himself. Shirogane was too distressed to even vote, sinking to her knees while the others voted for her. Saihara held no remorse in his gaze as he glared at her in memory of Akamatsu before swapping his anger for worry when nothing happened.

No coins spewed out. The marker on Shirogane’s sprite blackened, and the screen on the game machine faded. There was no fanfare or glee except for the relieved sighs from the remaining Monokumarz. Monofunny thanked her father for sparing them at the endgame only to suddenly be blown up, leaving her brother screaming and scrambling away.

“Wow! It’s been so long since an ending like this happened!” Monokuma jeered, standing up in his golden throne. “To lose at the final trial, to incorrectly pinpoint the culprit and mastermind, how despairing!”

“F-father, were they really wrong?” Monotaro cried only for Monokuma to rest his paw on the button. “W-wait! I was only asking!”

“W-we were wrong?” Yumeno whispered, beginning to shake and pale.

“I-I told you! I told you! It was bad timing on my part! I’m so sorry!” Shirogane screamed, and she bawled into her fists, digging her knuckles into her forehead. She shook her head, blubbering that she was not the culprit.

“Who? Who could’ve done it?” Harukawa shouted, her hand raising for her mouth. “Only Shirogane didn’t have a solid alibi! Only Shirogane could’ve committed Amami’s murder and set up Akamatsu!”

“Unless someone lied, of course,” Kiibo remarked, straightening. He tutted, waving his finger like a scolding teacher. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? One of us, except for Shirogane-san, lied.”

“Who lied?” Yumeno shouted, and Kiibo directed his cold gaze to Saihara.

“Care to guess, Saihara-kun?” Kiibo asked, his honeyed voice lifting through the overwhelming despair.

All in an instant, the realization sank into the protagonist. Saihara’s blank trepidation dropped along with his mouth. He splayed his fingers out, and all color drained his face like water down the faucet. As if no one could breathe, like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room, everyone stopped and gasped just like the original survivors did for Enoshima.

In that instant, the world screamed. The plot twist revealed, all everyone could do was silently shriek while Kiibo’s head was filled with approving survey results from his creators.

Kiibo’s podium raised with him, and he leaped towards Monokuma’s throne. Monokuma stood aside on the long arm of the chair with Monotaro joining him on the opposite arm. Kiibo made himself comfortable as he sat. He crossed his legs and set his hands to his hips like a truly malignant king. He gazed at his subjects, sending their despair directly into the minds of the audience. Each flinch, shudder, and glare was sent to the masses who gobbled it up and screeched for more like true gluttons.

“Kiibo-kun,” Saihara murmured, brow furrowing and sweating, “y-you’re the mastermind?”

“That’s correct, Saihara-kun,” Kiibo said, as Monokuma and Monotaro thrust their paws out to him, allowing the above cameras to focus on Kiibo’s calm expression. “I am the mastermind of this killing game. It was easy to worm my way under your arm and into your heart to make you think I was really an innocent robot, wasn’t it? Your trusting and naive nature was perfect for me for me to seem hopeful, too.”

“Y-you can’t be serious, you bastard! After all we’ve been through, you killed Amami-kun? How did you even do it? Your alibi was secured!” Saihara cried, words becoming shrill and uncouth.

“You want that truth, hm? I cannot provide that,” Kiibo said, shaking his head. “If this killing game ends in despair, I’m supposed to wash away the truth as well and cover it all with a clean lie.”

“What are you talking about? Explain yourself more thoroughly!” Harukawa barked.

Kiibo smirked, clutching the arms of his throne and shouting, “Isn’t it obvious? Wasn’t it obvious from the start? I was made for the sake of despair! My name was a red herring, but if you want to search for the truth so badly, you all wasted your time! There’s no point in searching for the truth anymore when you’ve completely overlooked it!”

Kiibo watched Saihara’s eyes water. The lukewarm, salty liquid tracing the edges of Saihara’s eyes and threatening to spill over brought an even larger grin into Kiibo’s cheeks. His body ached with despair, watching his dear Saihara struggle under the pressure of mustering any kind of response. All of the character development made especially for him seemed to burst out from him like fresh ichor from a split wound. He hunched forward, elbows pressing against his podium and wept.

The beautiful dawning of despair cresting over the horizon as the world bemoaned their crying protagonist and sobbed with him. Hopelessness encompassed them all. The warmth of Saihara’s hand seemed so far away as Kiibo gripped his chest, gritting his fake teeth.

“I am going to end it all like I promised,” Kiibo announced as Monokuma offered a wooden gavel. Accepting it, Kiibo raised it over the rising red button. “This game will be drowned in despair along with the truth. Only falsehoods will remain. No answers will be given because this killing game, this fifty-third killing game, is over!”

“Stop! Kiibo-kun, please! Answer me! What is the truth? Why? Why did any of this have to happen? Why did you-why did you use me?” Saihara cried, reaching out to him, but Kiibo slammed the gavel onto the button with a wink and smile reminiscent of the original mastermind.

Tears blurred Saihara’s vision as the silver shackles shot out for the remaining students. Saihara saw the shackles lunge for Yumeno and Shirogane, latching around their necks and hauling them off their feet. Harukawa, despite all of her athleticism and skill, had no time to react as multiple shackles clasped around her ankles and wrists, dragging her and the other girls into the darkness.

Yet, there was no shackle for him. Saihara knew it was coming, frantically looking around, but when he turned to face forward, Kiibo was right in front of him. He gasped, leaning backwards and did not even feel the shackle clutch his thin neck. Kiibo caressed Saihara’s cheek, smiling.

“You were a wonderful partner, the perfect person to fall into despair just for me. I’m so glad you were the protagonist of this merciless game, Saihara-kun,” Kiibo whispered, and he placed a chaste kiss on Saihara’s cheek.

Kiibo watched Saihara as he was hauled away into the opened, darkened doors. Saihara screamed his name, but Kiibo could not hear it, standing with his arm outstretched. He stared at Saihara’s vacant podium, and he closed his eyes, ending his feed to the outside world as the cameras took care of the executions.

He sat back on his throne. Kiibo heard Monokuma tell him what a wonderful job he did as the mastermind while Monotaro hugged his chest, praising his father. He rubbed behind their ears and gazed at the screens showing the executions. How Shirogane was stitched into fabric, blood sputtering with each needle while the screaming Yumeno was sawed in half elicited shivers from all of his body. Harukawa being stabbed to death by child-like Monokuma soldiers in a snowy tundra made him bite his lip.

Saihara stood in a similar trial room with a noose hanging around his neck, and he dangled while culprits vandalized his body. Monokuma units swung him around, shooting arrows and knives into his body while the warrant for his arrest was blown up on the wall behind him. The judge, jury, and detectives mutilated his body with their claws and hung up his corpse for the wailing world to see. As the world screamed, Kiibo joined them, laughing and clutching his head like a true mastermind in the deepest pits of despair.

All alone with only despair to his name, Kiibo ended the fifty-third killing game with the most gruesome execution, one penned and created by his dear Saihara. It was a fitting, absolutely despairing ending for everyone, and Kiibo howled as the curtains fell on another successful season of Danganronpa.


End file.
